“Lyric,” Whiz, the Road Captain, snaps. “You can’t think like that.”
“What if…” The words catch on my tongue, and bile rises up my throat.
What if they die?
What if I never get to talk to them again?
What if Mellie is gone forever?
What if my dad loses his other leg?
What if I had fixed Mellie’s car?
What if I hadn’t sent Rowdy to pick her up?
What if, what if, what if?
What. Fucking. If?!
4
LYRIC
“Mr. Jenkins.”
I pause mid-step and turn to face the doctor who just entered the waiting room. I’ve been pacing for what feels like hours since arriving at the hospital. The space filled up quickly with Kings of Anarchy brothers and family members, but all of our collective questioning, bargaining, threatening, and hellraising has gotten us no closer to answers than when I first spoke to the deputy.
“That’s me,” I say, striding toward him. “How’s Mellie? And my dad?”
“Why don’t you come with me, where we can talk privately?”
My heart drops into my stomach, and my knees threaten to buckle. Hands settle on my shoulders, and the contact steadies me enough that I remain upright.
“Um… yeah,” I finally say.
I follow the doctor into a small room that sits off to the side of the waiting area, and Zombie is right on my heels. The doctor closes the door before gesturing to the small loveseat against the wall.
“Please, have a seat,” he says.
“C’mon, Doc, just spit it out,” Zombie snaps.
“And you are?”
“He’s family,” I say, finding the presence of mind to speak.
The doctor nods. “Mr. Jenkins, I operated on your father when he arrived. Unfortunately, several major arteries were severed in the accident, as well as damage to multiple organs, which caused internal bleeding. He lost quite a bit of blood. I did everything I could to repair the damage, and we also gave him a blood transfusion to replace the blood that was depleted. He’s out of surgery, but he’s in critical condition in the ICU.”
“He’s alive?” I ask, focusing on that.
“He is… for now. At the time, I cannot tell you if he will survive. He’s currently on a ventilator as he wasn’t able to sustain breathing on his own. The next few days are extremely critical.”
“Can we see him?” Zombie asks.
“You can, but visitors are limited to two at a time.” He glances through the small window in the door at the crowd of bikers. “I know there are a lot of you here who have a vested interest, but I’ll ask you to respect the policies. It’s what’s best for his recovery.” Absently, I nod, and he continues. “I’ll have a nurse come and take you to his room.”
“What about Mellie?” I blurt when the doctor moves to open the door.
His face softens. “I believe she’s still in surgery. Someone will come and talk to you when they have an update on her condition.”
